


the things he couldn't say

by snowdrops



Series: writing with snowdrops (dgm) [3]
Category: D.Gray-man
Genre: Angst, Established Relationship, F/M, Interlude, Kissing, Snippets, Tumblr Prompt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-06
Updated: 2016-05-06
Packaged: 2018-06-06 17:18:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 664
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6763039
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/snowdrops/pseuds/snowdrops
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Order is hectic and messy, abuzz in its final hours. But in the face of it all, everything falls away when he looks into her eyes.</p>
            </blockquote>





	the things he couldn't say

**Author's Note:**

  * For [kandayuu](https://archiveofourown.org/users/kandayuu/gifts).



> [prompt](http://kandayuu.tumblr.com/post/143033791514/heartoferebor-imagine-your-otp-kissing-tiny) from @kandayuu  
> Cross-posted on [tumblr](https://rielity.tumblr.com/post/143934369908).

They collide headlong in the corridors of the Order, and for a moment all he can see is her. Her, dark eyes, dark hair, soft flush on her cheeks, and pale skin covered with even-paler scars. Scars that he knows glow under the moonlight when she’s lying in bed, as though the angels had marked her body of their own accord. But the truth is so much less romantic and so much more terrifying, even for him, he who should not feel anything at all, not terror, not fear, definitely not romance. Those scars are reminders of the prices they have paid – their whole lives, their bodies and then some – for this war alone; this war that is to end soon, that will end soon, probably without them, probably for the better, or so they hope.

The Noah have set the day, using Allen – no, the Fourteenth – as their messenger. They gave it two weeks in advance; that long-awaited (dreaded) day touches down in twelve hours.

The Order is hectic and messy, abuzz in its final hours. There are last wills written, letters sent and final plans made and strategies redrawn, revised. But in the face of it all, everything falls away when he looks into her eyes. Buried behind fear, there is a sad resignation and relief. She’s already accepted it – accepted that she won’t make it out alive. He doesn’t blame her; how can he? She is the center of this war; if she lives then the war will continue. He knows there is no comfort in saying empty words, and she doesn’t want to hear them from him of all people. He has only ever been frank with her all these years, and he knows that she has to die so that this meaningless battle can finally come to its long-overdue conclusion.

Even so, suppressed emotion surges up from within him, and he grabs her, flustered as she already is from their collision, and gently maneuvers her towards the nearest wall.

He claims her lips with the desperation of a starved man, long past the point of caring if Komui would see them, or even the old panda. The only person he has ever cared about is going to become a piece of history by tomorrow; with luck, he might follow suit. He supposes that gives him an excuse to be rash. (He knows it doesn’t, but he really can’t be bothered with that now)

She kisses him back with equal intent and equal ferocity and passion, as he clutches her closer to himself. Closer, _closer_ , until her whole body is aligned with his own, his arms wrapped tightly around her back, and he just wants to know that in this moment, right now, she is alive, breathing, whole, _his_. That if something were to happen to her now, he would gladly take a barrage of Akuma bullets for her; let Fiidora play with his insides, let Tyki Mikk tear his heart out, if it would mean she could stay alive. But he knows that he _can’t_ and it hurts, because he has only ever wanted to protect her with his life, but he can’t, because of this stupid war, and that’s why they’re here now, aren’t they, pinned to a wall trying to breathe through each other’s mouths.

The kiss breaks off all of a sudden and he opens his eye to see her hand raised to his face, her expression confused. She wipes something away from his eyes, and he very belatedly realizes with a bit of shock that he’s crying. The tears are trailing down both his cheeks, his eyepatch still in place but damp.

She looks at him, concerned, and he hates this feeling of helplessness, hates how the tears refuse to just _stop_. He wants to say something, but there’s something in his throat and he doesn’t trust his own voice, so he just hugs her tightly, praying that she will understand what he cannot say.

**Author's Note:**

> Lmao I’m ... bad at kiss scenes. There is no other excuse for this. But it was worth a shot orz


End file.
